


Gotta Have My Pops!

by Butterbeerandbutterknives



Series: Cereal Slogans, Shane, and EDS [5]
Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Bisexuality, Chronic Illness, Chronic Pain, EDs, Ehlers-Danlos syndrome, GP, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Postural Othratic Taychacardia Syndrome, dislocation, ehlers danlos, pots - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-16
Updated: 2018-09-16
Packaged: 2019-07-12 21:27:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16003643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Butterbeerandbutterknives/pseuds/Butterbeerandbutterknives
Summary: “I want to call an ambulance.” Ryan stated suddenly. “You’re clearly in so much pain, and you can’t move and-“Ryan stopped, suddenly aware of the growing knot in his throat.“It’s not that serious.” Shane replied.“If I hadn’t come-“Ryan choked.





	Gotta Have My Pops!

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! I know, I know. It's been forever since I posted. This story has been in the works since the day I posted the last part, but hypermobile fingers can be unreliable and I haven't always felt like writing something so personal. My own chronic illness has been getting worse, and it sucks. I am very proud of this installment, and I hope y'all love it as much as I do. We FINALLY get some Shyan ;)  
> Anyways, for anyone new here, Hi! This is a fic in which Shane has the same illness I do- Hypermobile Ehlers Danlos Syndrome. I, however, am NOT an expert, so if something isn't like your experience, I am sorry.

The phone rang, breaking the eerie silence that had swept over Shane’s apartment. He was on the couch, blanket wrapped around his shoulders, with one leg uncovered and hanging over the edge of the tan cushions. He was too tired to get up and go to his bed, but too awake and in too much pain to fall asleep. The ringtone he had assigned Ryan was the “Axmans Jazz”. 

The taller man reached out instinctively, but stopped just short, his fingers hovering over the oversized iPhone X that was laying face down the oaken coffee table. Retracting his hand slowly, he decided he wasn’t ready to talk to his best friend. Clearly, his friend was mad, and Shane was just confused. He couldn’t stop replaying the kiss in his mind, over and over. His phone chirped with the power up noise from Super Mario, signaling he had a new voice message.  He reached over, putting his phone on silent, before closing his eyes and settling further into the foam pillows on his couch.

It was quiet now, with the only noise being the roar of traffic nearby, and the crunching noises his neck made as he tried to get his head into a comfortable position. Soon he was sleeping lightly. A few hours later he woke up, bleary and disoriented, deciding from the chorus of agony his joints were singing he’d better move to his bed. Standing up, his left hip brusquely fell out of the socket. A guttural noise ripped through Shane’s body, accompanying the tormenting pain in his hip. Hands shaky with agony, he grabbed his foot and crossed it over his right knee, a movement he so familiar it felt as normal as walking. He pushed and tried to angle his hip back into its assigned seat, but it wouldn’t work.

Shane broke into sobs. He was a 32-year-old man, laying in the dark on the floor unable to get up. The other times he’d been unable to relocate something, he’d iced it and hoped the swelling went down enough for him to fix it. He’d only had to take an uber to the ER a handful of times. Now it was the middle of the night, with no way to get up and his phone was out of reach. Lying on the unforgiving hardwood, he only hoped one of his neighbors heard him falling and would check on him. He could feel the adrenaline coursing through his veins, panic filling his chest. It felt hard to breathe and a wave of vertigo washed over him. How long he remained on that floor he had no idea, Shane felt his heart skip a beat when his prayers to a god he didn’t believe in seemed to have been answered. A knock on the door rang through the stillness of his apartment.

“Shane?” Ryan called though the door. “I know it’s late, but I’ve been calling and texting for hours and you haven’t picked up.”

Shane tried to collect his breathing to shout back, but all that came out was a whisper.

“Shane, come on, this isn’t funny!” Ryan insisted, his voice loud and his knocking louder. “I’m worried!” 

“Ryan!” Shane finally composed himself to call back, hoping his neighbors wouldn’t be too angry about the commotion at 10:30 at night. “Ryan, I need- AHG.” In his excitement he’d moved his leg, and it felt like a bullet tearing through the bone. Head tilting back, he moaned in agony. Tears welling in his brown eyes, he fought to stay conscious against the new wave of pain. Gritting his teeth, he heard his front door being opened, and was suddenly ecstatic he had forgotten to lock his door. Shane’s vision was blurry without his glasses, but he was relived to see Ryan entering his home.

“Holy shit.” Ryan blurted out. Tossing his keys and a small box to the side, he rushed over to Shane and dropped to his knees. “Your hip- that’s dislocated, right? Just like your knee?”

Shane nodded. “Ice,” He grunted.

Ryan sprung into action, walking to the freezer. “Here,” He offered. “Let me get you on the couch.” He reached out, intending to scoop his best friend up fireman style, but Shane stopped him.

“No!” Shane yelped. “No, no. It hurts too much.” He grabbed the icepack, putting it on the side of his hip, shivering as the cold infiltrated the hot swelling.

“What else can I do?” Ryan asked, his voice tense with concern.

“The dining table.” Shane instructed, calmer now that the ice was numbing the sharpness of the pain. “There’s a prescription for Celebrex, grab me two.” 

Ryan did as he was told, rattling through what seemed an excessive amount of medications with his friend’s name on them. Finding the right bottle, he grabbed two before getting a soda from the fridge to help his friend swallow them easier. Walking back to Shane, he grabbed a plastic straw from the table. “Sorry turtles.” He mumbled under his breath. He sat down next to Shane’s head, offered him the pills whilst cracking open the coke and putting the straw in, running it through the tab to keep it from bobbing needlessly. “Here.” Ryan said, propping his friend’s head up. “I don’t want to have to Heimlich you on top of everything else.” He expected a laugh or at least a wheeze, but when Shane simply complied the seriousness of the situation began to sink in. Shane had a dislocated hip and couldn’t get up. Had Ryan not come over, what would have happened?  “I want to call an ambulance.” Ryan stated suddenly. “You’re clearly in so much pain, and you can’t move and-“Ryan stopped, suddenly aware of the growing knot in his throat.

“It’s not that serious.” Shane replied.

“If I hadn’t come-“Ryan choked.

“If I can’t get this back in soon I’ll have to go to the E.R, but at least let us try to get it in after the swelling goes down.” Shane said amicably.

Ryan sighed shakily, feeling simultaneously relived and worried. It wasn’t like Shane to be so open. They sat in silence for a bit before the brunet spoke. “I’m going to move my hip to approximately where it should be.” He instructed. “I need you to push my hip as hard as you can, and don’t freak if I pass out during it, okay?”

Ryan nodded and watched in horror as Shane moved his flopping leg into position, a look of sheer agony on his face. “Now!” Shane ordered.

Ryan quickly pushed on Shane’s leg, trying to block out the pained noises his friend was making. After only a few seconds, Ryan felt the joint shudder, and he worried he’d broken Shane’s leg. A loud crunching noise resonated through the room, and Ryan knew he and Shane had been successful. Shane felt the relief sweet through him, but the pain had been so bad he felt himself being carried away into the darkness.

When he woke up, he was being lowered into bed, so he knew it’d only been a few seconds. “Thank you.” He murmured. “And sorry.” He added as an afterthought.

“Sorry?” Ryan queried. “Sorry about what?”

“Kissing you earlier.” Shane admitted.

“You-.” Ryan paused, realization sweeping him. “You thought I was mad about kissing you?”

“Well…” Shane trailed off, putting a pillow beneath his knees.

Ryan leaned forward, lightly pressing his fingers into the side of Shane’s neck. Closing his eyes, he kissed Shane softly, lingering a bit as he pulled away. “Did I get my point across?”

“I think so.” Shane said with a smile.

“I left to get you something after our conversation earlier.” Ryan explained. When he returned, he had a medium sized black box in his hands. “Here.” He offered, taking the lid off so Shane didn’t have to.

“Oh,” Shane breathed. Inside was a leather bracelet with a silver plate on the front. Engraved on the plates front was a medical symbol, and on the back it had his diagnoses. The final line read _Emergency Contact: Ryan Bergara,_ and had Ryan’s number. From a distance, it would look like a normal bracelet, but would provide any medical professional with the information they needed. “Thank you.”

“It’s nothing.” Ryan defended reflexively.

“No, don’t downplay it.” Shane said. “This is incredible.”

Ryan silently put his head on the taller man’s shoulder. “I’m worried about you.”

“I’m worried too.’’ Shane murmered. “If you hadn’t come-“

“I know.” Ryan sighed. “I thought about that too.” He fiddled his thumbs. “I don’t want to overstep any boundaries, especially since I don’t quite know what _we_ ” He gestured between their bodies. “are, but I really don’t want to leave you alone.”

“Then stay.” Shane begged. “I’ve got an extra toothbrush, and this bed is big enough for two.”

Ryan looked at Shane closely. The tear tracks, the impression of the floor on his face- and decided to speak his mind. “There’s no place I’d rather be.” He smiled.  Shane smiled back, before yawning. “You must be beat.” Ryan murmured. “Do you need to eat or take anything before you crash?”

“Oh, I can get my own meds.” Shane dismissed.

“Let me help.” Ryan said. Shane relented, listing off the medications he took at night, letting Ryan gather the bottles and return with the forgotten can of soda. “I want you to drink a little of this, at least.” Ryan said. “You’re getting too thin.”

“Yes, mommy dearest.” Shane drawled sarcastically, but a smile danced across his lips nonetheless.

Soon, both were in bed together, lying closer than they were at the sally house. 

“I was so worried.” Shane admitted. “I was in so much pain- and with it being the weekend I just hoped someone would find me.”

“Maybe we should set up some sort of schedule.” Ryan worried. “Where I text you at certain intervals over the weekend or-“

“I know.” Shane admitted. “I know it’s just- I don’t want to be burden, you know? I’m 32, not 80!’’

“Listen.’’ Ryan replied. “Pain doesn’t discriminate. I just want you to be safe.” He laced his fingers through Shane’s. “Let’s just get some sleep. Tomorrow is the weekend, we’ll figure something out.”

Soon, Shane was asleep.

When Shane woke up, sunlight was streaming through his curtains. He started slowly moving each joint, taking stock of how everything felt. Grimacing when he got to his hip, he became aware of noise in the kitchen. Figuring he should go see if Ryan was about to burn the house down or not, he sat up slowly, trying to not have is blood pressure plummet. Once he was sitting upright, he was strangely scared to stand up. His hip felt awful, and the last thing he wanted was a repeat of last night. 

“Oh, good.” Ryan beamed, bringing Shane back to reality. “You’re awake! I was just making breakfast.” He noticed the look on his friend’s face, and quickly asked, “What’s wrong? You look like you saw a ghost.”

“Ghosts aren’t real.” Shane smirked quickly. “I was just getting up.” He stared at his feet, still not making a move.

“Worried your hip won’t hold?” Ryan quired.

Shane nodded. “I don’t want it to go out again. I know it’s silly, since it happens all the time, but…”

“It doesn’t make it any less of a real fear.” Ryan said. “I can’t even imagine how much pain you must have been in last night.”

“The pain awful, yes.” Shane explained. “but it’s the actual dislocation that’s worse. It’s just the fear of being helpless, I guess.”

“I’ll always be here to help.” Ryan smiled. “Like now, for instance.” He reached around Shane’s waist, carefully aiding him in standing. Shane felt himself pale as his heart raced to keep his blood moving, and Ryan felt his friend stalling. “Let’s put you back down for a second.” He said, “I’ve got an idea.” He left the room, leaving Shane to put his glasses on and dizzily wonder what Ryan had in mind. A mess of black hair came into sight, pushing a wheeled office chair. “Here.” Ryan declared. “Just sit.”

Shane sat in the chair, half moving himself with his legs, half being pushed. Two plates sat on the table, both filled with toast and scrambled eggs. There was a cup of tea next to his plate, and his French press was filled with coffee.

“I wasn’t sure what you wanted to drink, so I made both coffee and tea.”

Shane felt like his cheeks might crack from smiling. “Thank you.”  He pushed the plunger down on the French press, carefully using two hands to pour himself a mug.  He poked at his scrambled eggs, not sure what to say. He took a bite, moaning internally. He rarely cooked, mostly surviving off protein shakes and microwaved chicken broth, so to have something so delicious was a change of pace.  It felt so right, being next to Ryan, but it also felt so awkward. What were they? Was this a one off hookup or something more? Hell, Ryan was making him feel things he didn’t know another man could do to him. Well, except for Ryan Gosling in _Love Actually_ , and Mat in his freshman year of high school, and Josh Peck, and - “Shit.” Shane exclaimed, his fork falling from his hand with a soft clattering.

“What’s wrong?” Ryan’s head snapped up with such velocity that Shane was impressed he didn’t subluxate a vertebra. _Not everybody has joints held together with one of those crappy purple glue sticks._ Shane reminded himself internally. “Is it your stomach?” Ryan quired, pulling Shane from the loop of his internal monologue.

“Huh?” Shane replied, trying to clear his mind. “Oh no, uh, sorry.” He picked up his fork.

“What’s wrong?” Ryan asked. “If it was something I did, please let me know.”

“Oh, fuck no.” Shane said. “You haven’t done anything, I just…” He blushed, bowing his head to study his eggs. “It just hit me that I don’t think I’m straight.”

Ryan laughed, stopping with a wheeze when he saw the seriousness on the taller man’s face. “I’m sorry, I’m not trying to make fun of you. I just find it kind of funny that you just figured it out even though you were the one to start tonsil hockey between us.”

Shane chuckled in response, “You know.” He admitted. “I guess I just never really thought about it. Bisexuality isn’t big in the media, and since I liked girls…”

“I get it.” Ryan replied. “I didn’t figure out I was Bi until college.” 

“Are you out?” Shane asked. “I mean, I had suspicions but…”

“I’m not ashamed of who I am.” Ryan started. “And I’ve dated guys before, but I don’t really tell anyone. I brought a boy to thanksgiving once and my parents didn’t react well, so I try to keep it toned down.”

Shane grimaced. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

Ryan shrugged. “It’s okay. It was a long time ago. Besides, you know what they say; _The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb.”_

“Is that where that saying originally came from?”

Ryan smiled, but Shane could tell his mind was somewhere else. “What are we?” Ryan blurted.

“I don’t know.” Shane admitted. “I just- I’m not sure you know what you’d be getting into with me.”

Ryan tilted his head slightly. “What do you mean by that?” 

Shane chewed nervously on his lip. “I mean I’m never going to get better, and I know how awful that is to deal with. That’s why Sarah and I broke up- she just felt overwhelmed. We always had pretty vanilla sex, and she wanted to go hiking and go on vacation spontaneously; and I can’t and won’t ever be able to do certain things, and by the end of our relationship she just said she was worried in 5 or 10 years she’d feel more like a caretaker than a lover.”

Ryan stared quizzically at him. “I understand you have a genetic condition. I know your DNA isn’t just going to randomly correct itself one day. I’m okay with that, Shane. I really am.” Ryan clasped Shane’s hands. “I’m not saying we do anything serious, because I know how awkward that might make _Unsolved_. Let’s just take it one day at a time.”

“Well then,” Shane smiled. “I have an idea of what we can do today.” Before Ryan had time to respond, Shane kissed him, and decided that no matter what came in the future, he’d savor this day for a long time.


End file.
